


Let's take Peter Parker down

by Bergen



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Gen, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, Misunderstandings, Protective Clint Barton, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Tony Stark, Secret Identity, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:41:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22914925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bergen/pseuds/Bergen
Summary: The Avengers really appreciate everything Spider-Man has done for them. Not to mention, they feel kind of protective of this – clearly rather young – new Avenger.So, Natasha and Clint are in agreement: Tracing down that annoying Daily Bugle photographer Peter Parker, and getting him to stop harassing their spider-friend is the least they can do.
Comments: 29
Kudos: 851
Collections: Marvel(ous)Universe





	Let's take Peter Parker down

‘SPIDER-MAN AGAIN DAMAGES PROPERTY IN FAIL ATTEMPT TO SAVE GIRL’

Natasha pressed her lips together as she, against her better judgement, tapped on the link that Clint had just sent her. She quickly browsed through the Daily Bugle article, only skim reading it. _Complete disregard of bystander safety_ – the articled failed to mention that the saved girl _was_ a bystander herself – _cars damaged by falling debris_ – the writer conveniently left out that the Stark Relief Foundation had already reimbursed the owners - _girl returned to her father in tears -_ right, so the attempt wasn’t a failure at all, was it? The girl was shaken but alive as opposed to, well, lying dead under a pile of debris.

Natasha knew what incident the article was referring to. The Avengers had been busy last night, chasing down a group of costumed villains who were trying to escape New York with a stolen crate of chitauri technology.

You know, just another Tuesday.

Spider-Man had taken it upon himself to keep civilians out of the line of fire. Tony always insisted on Spider-Man sticking to that specific task, in a very un-Starkish show of concern. Tony had also been adamant that Spider-Man’s identity remain a secret, even to his own teammates. He had never cared to give the team a proper explanation for his protective behavior, but Natasha and Clint had long ago reasoned out that Spider-Man was clearly a young buck. A college student at best and probably not even that. Natasha had no problem with that. Spider-Man had long proven himself a viable asset to the team. That was her only requirement.

During last night’s incident, the Avengers had managed to keep collateral damage to a minimum. The roof and uppermost floor of one abandoned building had collapsed, however. Spider-Man had been quick to act, swooping in and grabbing a hold of a little girl who had been playing on the sidewalk, getting her out of harm’s way before debris rained down onto the street. The girl was shaken, but otherwise okay, and no one else sustained any injuries.

So, frankly, the whole thing could hardly have gone more smoothly. Natasha kept scrolling until she reached the end of the article and saw the name at the end. No surprise there. Whoever Peter Parker was, his sole mission as a Daily Bugle reporter seemed to be slagging off Spider-Man. Clint had been the first one to discover the articles. Now he kept sending them to Natasha, because they appeared to be the only two Avengers who cared about this particular social injustice. Steve and Bruce had both been indignant on Spider-Man’s behalf when Clint showed them the headlines, but also adamant that they couldn’t possibly do anything about it because _freedom of speech_ or some bullshit like that. And Tony had been even worse: the articles had seemed to _amuse_ him.

The picture that went with this particular article was tame compared to the usual: the photograph merely showed a row of cars covered in debris. Clearly, Parker had arrived at the scene too late. Usually, he somehow always managed to get a sensational picture of Spider-Man in action, which really couldn’t be an easy task to accomplish. Natasha would be impressed, if she wasn’t mostly angry.

Her phone vibrated as another message from Clint came in. ‘ _How long we gonna let him screw with our bud like this, Nat? Let’s take Peter Parker down._ ’

Natasha felt her lips curl into a smile. At least Clint was someone she could see eye to eye with.

-

“Is that him? Jeez, that Jameson wasn’t kidding, he really _is_ a kid.”

Natasha and Clint had been on a stakeout outside Parker’s apartment for hours when the elevator doors slid open and a boy who matched their description appeared in the hallway. Brown eyes. Curly hair. Wearing a Walkman and carrying two books in one hand, his other hand hooked under a strap of his backpack. Natasha spotted a camera strapped to the side of the backpack. “That’s our guy.”

“Nat, let’s rethink strategy,” Clint murmured. “I’m not sure how comfortable I am with threatening a high-schooler.”

“Then let me do the talking,” Natasha shot back.

“ _Nat_.”

“Oh, don’t get your panties in a knot, Barton. We’ll go easy on him. Relatively.” She pushed herself from the wall and stepped into the middle of the hallway, blocking the boy’s path. “Mr. Parker?”

It was clear that the boy recognized them immediately. His eyes went impossibly wide and his hand shot up to take off his Walkman. “Black Widow?” He squeaked. “How… Hawk-… Hawkeye? How did you…” the boy faltered, his eyes darting from side to side, before continuing in a lower voice. “How did you know where I live?”

“We went down to the Daily Bugle. We only had to threaten your boss with minor bodily harm before he gave up your address.”

Parker blinked. “Wait, what?”

“You’ve been spreading lies about a valued team member of ours. Did you really think there would be no retribution?”

“Oh,” the boy said, a look of comprehension appearing on his face. “Ooooooh…”

“Yes,” Natasha said evenly. “We were coming down here to break all ten of your fingers, but since you appear to be quite young, Hawkeye here convinced me to let you explain yourself _before_ I decide whether or not to break all ten of your fingers. So, let’s hear it. You have one minute.”

The kid was gazing up at them, and for some unfathomable reason, a soft smile had appeared on his face.

“Is this amusing you?” Natasha enquired in one of her most dangerous tones.

“No,” Parker said quickly, hugging his books tighter to his chest. “Just… that’s really nice of you guys to help him out like that. I – uh… I always thought Spider-Man was a bit of a loner.”

“He is not,” Natasha informed him. “He might usually operate alone, but he is part of our team. And we look after our own. With whatever means necessary. You have thirty seconds left, by the way.”

“Look,” the boy said, looking earnest and not as all as nervous as Natasha thought he ought to look. “My boss has something against Spider-Man. I know my articles are bullshit, but If I don’t write them, he’ll simply hire someone else. So, I might as well just do it. He pays me pretty well because I can always get the right pictures, and frankly, I could use the money. My aunt can use all the help she can get. I don’t know if you’ve taken a look around, but I don’t exactly live in an upper-class neighborhood.”

“Your aunt?”

Parker snapped his mouth shut, pressing his lips together. But Natasha didn’t really need more information. There were only so many reasons why a kid might be living with his aunt instead of his own parents.

Clint chimed in. “All right, kiddo. Whatever sad background story you may have, it’s no excuse to spread lies about someone else. You don’t know Spider-Man’s life. For all you know, he’s going through the same shit you are. How would that make you feel?”

“Uh,” Parker said, fiddling with the strap of his backpack, and seemingly having a lot of trouble coming up with an appropriate response. “Bad?”

Natasha gave a curt nod. “Smart kid. You’d better rethink the contents of your articles. After our little tête-à-tête today, I’m pretty sure your boss is willing to discuss an _alternative_ angle to your stories. Either that, or find yourself a different job. If we see one more bullshit article about Spider-Man appearing in your name, I _will_ break those pretty little fingers of yours. Have we made ourselves clear?”

Parker nodded. “Crystal.”

Without another word, Natasha turned to walk to the elevator. Clint followed, though Natasha could sense that he was still mulling some things over.

“Hang on,” Clint said when they had already reached the elevator. He turned and jogged back to the boy, who had taken out his key and was about to enter his apartment. “Parker.”

Natasha looked on as Parker turned back, a questioning expression on his face. She watched Clint take out his wallet and hold a handful of dollar bills out to the boy.

Parker turned red. “What? No…” he protested weakly. “I don’t need… I didn’t mean to imply that I needed…”

“You didn’t imply anything, just take the money,” Clint said in a tone that brooked no argument. “And then get yourself a good job where you actually contribute to society, yeah?”

-

Tony hummed under his breath as he uncorked another bottle of wine. He lifted the bottle towards Pepper, silently asking if she needed a refill. She smiled and held out her glass.

It was one of those rare evenings where everyone got along, and they could simply hang out in the tower’s spacious living area without anyone hulking out or shooting arrows and destroying the place. Pepper was chatting with Rhodey, mostly swapping embarrassing stories about Tony. Natasha and Bruce were in another corner, pretending to be just talking when in fact they were openly flirting. Clint was lounging in an armchair next to him. From the corner of his eye, Tony caught him browsing through the Daily Bugle website, no doubt checking if nefarious journalist Peter Parker had uploaded any new stories. Tony couldn’t suppress a grin. As far as he was concerned, Peter writing slander about himself was an excellent source of amusement. One of his personal favorites had been the article in which Peter Parker accused his own Alter Ego of being ‘too self-involved to stop an incoming storm from causing damage in the city’, as if Spider-Man could personally be held accountable for the weather.

Suddenly, he heard Steve yelp beside him. “Oh my god – Tony!”

Tony looked up, following Steve’s gaze – and then almost spilled his drink. Spider-Man was pressed against the window on the outside of the tower, giving them a sheepish little wave.

“Yeah,” Tony said, uncrossing his leg and getting to his feet. “Oh, yeah. Why the fuck not?” He moved closer to the window and started gesturing wildly. “Go up! None of these windows open, you’ll have to enter through the roof.”

Spider-Man cocked his head, pointing a finger upwards.

“Yes,” Tony confirmed, “yes, that is generally the direction where you can find the roof, genius. Remind me to mention this moment in your college letter of recommendation.”

Spider-Man gave a cheeky salute before crawling away.

Tony ran a hand across his face, turning back to face the others. “Looks like we have another guest. I’ll go make iced coffee.”

On a few occasions, Peter had joined the team for after-mission drinks. The other Avengers already knew that Spider-Man didn’t drink alcohol. Instead, the kid usually chugged iced coffee as if there were no tomorrow, always lifting his mask to only uncover his mouth. Tony had seriously been considering designing a little hole in the mask so the kid could just poke a straw right through.

-

Steve yelped _again_ when Spider-Man suddenly dropped down from the ceiling rather than taking the elevator like any sensible human being.

“Stop scaring Captain America,” Tony told the kid. “He’s delicate.” He ignored Steve’s murmured protest, patting Peter on the back. “Wasn’t expecting you. But your timing is good. Care to join us? Just made some iced coffee.”

“Thanks,” Peter murmured. “Hey all. Captain America… Dr. Banner, sir…”

The kid seemed more nervous than usual, and Tony motioned for him to take a seat on the couch next to him. “Any particular reason why you were creeping your way up my tower this evening?”

“I wasn’t _creeping_ ,” Peter said, sitting down on the couch and pulling his legs up to his chest. “But, uh, yeah. I wanted to make an announcement.”

He stayed quiet for a while.

“Is the announcement that you’ve taken a vow of silence?” Tony asked. “Because if so, you’re being highly efficient.”

“Play nice, Tony,” Pepper admonished.

Peter chuckled. “It’s okay, Pep. I can handle him.”

“It’s like I’m a little child,” Tony complained. “Hang on – no one dare comment on that.”

Peter raised his voice. “I… I wanna tell you guys who I am. Show you who I am.” He already lifted a hand towards his mask without giving Tony any time to completely panic because _wait where the hell had this come from?_

“Hang on, just hang on,” Tony quickly interjected, raising a hand and grabbing Peter’s wrist. “Kid – are you sure? Take a look around. You really want this bunch of maniacs to know your identity?”

“Fuck you too, Tony,” Clint muttered.

Peter lowered his hand. “Yeah. I’m sure, Tony. I’m sure. I really thought about it.”

His voice sounded completely sincere. Tony wished he could search the kid’s face, look him in the eyes. But this would have to do.

Tony shrugged, released Peter and instead grabbed the bottle of wine and filled his glass up again. “Your funeral. But – ah – just to avoid this becoming _my_ funeral as well, can I just give everyone a heads-up? Just a little disclaimer that I in no way encouraged… that is… well… – uh – I don’t want to hear phrases like ‘child endangerment’ or ‘exploiting minors’ or ‘Tony you goddamn asshole I’ll kill you in your sleep’, because...”

“Don’t sweat it, Tony,” Natasha said. “We already know this kid is young. Clint and I do, at least.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, lifting his wineglass and leaning back in the armchair. “How?”

“Well, for one thing, because you keep slipping up and mentioning things like ‘college recommendation letters’ when talking to him.”

Tony actually appeared tongue-tied for the first time in his life, before begrudgingly admitting: “My bad.”

“Doesn’t matter either way,” Peter told him, before reaching up again and pulling his mask away in one swift motion, revealing a youthful face with brown eyes and curly hair.

“Hi everyone. I’m Peter Parker,” said Peter Parker.

“Well, damn,” Clint said into a stunned room.

Peter looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry about today. You guys just caught me by surprise – I didn’t really know how to react.”

“Hold on,” Tony said. “What - You know each other?”

“Clint and Natasha were at my house today,” Peter said. “And they threatened to break my fingers.”

“They….” Tony set his glass down, “did _what_ now?”

“It was really nice, actually,” Peter murmured, ducking his head with a small smile.

“Oh, yes, of course. I for one always get a warm and fuzzy feeling when I receive death threats. What the fuck kid?” Tony turned his glare on Natasha and Clint. “And what the fuck _you_ guys?”

Clint was frowning, but Natasha seemed entirely unrepentant.

Peter shrugged. “It was nice because they had my back. They didn’t know it was me. They didn’t know I was Spider-Man, that is.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Clint asked, still frowning, and Tony suddenly got the sense that his frown had more to do with him being frustrated about not realizing who Peter was, rather than feeling guilty over threatening a freaking kid with bodily harm.

“I’m telling you now,” Peter said. “Because before I wasn’t sure if I could really trust you guys. But after today I figured: if you went through all that trouble to try and help Spider-Man, then you must really be on my side.”

“Them threatening to break your bones made you trust them?” Rhodey clarified.

“Basically.”

“We wouldn’t actually have done it,” Clint defended. Tony didn’t miss the way Natasha’s eyebrows slightly arched up at that. He had a feeling that she probably would have followed through on her threat without any qualms.

“Why would you publish all those lies about yourself?” Natasha asked.

Peter shrugged. “It’s sort of like I said this afternoon. It pays good money, and if I don’t do it, the Bugle will just hire someone else, so it wouldn’t change anything. In fact, it would probably just make things worse. Because I always write articles that are kind of…. I mean…. at first glance they are basically anti-Spider-Man propaganda, but I try to leave room for people to make up their own mind. Like, I leave inconsistencies in on purpose-”

“Such as mentioning the girl you saved in an article about how you damaged a few cars?”

“Yeah – oh, you read it? Yeah, basically. That’s… that’s sort of my aim.”

“Not a terrible strategy,” Natasha judged. “But, FYI: If you quit, and they hire someone else, Clint and I will make damn sure they wouldn’t dare to publish that kind of vile shit about you.”

“Natasha,” Steve chided in a low voice.

“So, don’t let that be a reason to keep doing this,” Natasha continued, without even a glance in Steve’s direction. “Because you don’t deserve people thinking bad things of you, even if you’re the one writing them.”

Peter shrugged. “Either way, I went by the office and I quit the job. Jameson probably would have fired me if I hadn’t. You guys really freaked him out.”

“Nice going, team,” Tony scathed. “You got Spider-Man fired.”

“I quit,” Peter corrected him.

“It seems I’m really the only one here who is still trying to make sense of this. But can I ask something?” Steve gently broke in.

“I’m almost sixteen,” Peter said, pre-empting Steve’s question. “And with all due respect, I don’t really care what you have to say about that.”

Steve raised his eyebrows slightly. “I won’t say anything, then,” he said, his tone light.

Peter turned back to Clint. “Look, if you want the money back, I understand. I brought it with me.”

“No,” Clint said, looking disturbed. “I mean – you need it, right? You made that clear. And if I got you fired….”

“ _I quit_ ,” Peter insisted.

Tony contemplatively stared into his wineglass, ignoring the discussion that broke out about whether or not Peter was fired today and whose fault that actually was. He hadn’t realized that the kid took the job at the Daily Bugle because he needed the money so badly. He had always assumed that, much like himself, Peter had merely found it amusing to be able to write about himself without anyone knowing who he was. Tony never really thought about the financial aspect of things, because it was simply something he never had to be concerned about. Reaching a conclusion, Tony put his wineglass down and raised his voice. “So, Pete, if you quit the online newspaper, does that mean I can finally offer you a job at Stark industries?”

Clint and Natasha broke off their heated arguments and turned their heads. Peter blinked at him. The mask that had still been clenched in his fist, now fluttered to the ground. “What?”

“A job,” Tony repeated. “I want you to work here, but I always figured you were too busy.”

Peter narrowed his eyes. “Are you just saying that because you feel bad?”

“Of course not,” Pepper said, swooping in and saving the day. “Tony talks to me about it all the time. He needs someone like you to bounce ideas of every once in a while.”

“Oh,” Peter said, his face clearing up. “That’s… I mean, that’s awesome. That would be great.”

“That’s settled, then. We’ll discuss the details later,” Tony said, clapping his hands together. “Now, how about some iced coffee?”

-

Steve managed to rope Peter into getting some fresh air out on the balcony with himself and Rhodey later that evening.

“Nice view, huh?” He commented as they gazed out over Manhattan.

“Not bad,” Peter agreed. “I’m kinda used to them, though. Spend a lot of time in high places.” He pulled the oversized hoodie that Tony had lend him a little tighter around himself.

“You must be busy,” Rhodey commented. “The job, the super-hero stuff…. The homework?” The last part sounded more like a question than a statement. Peter merely nodded.

“How many people know about this?” Steve asked, waving at Peter’s blue and red suit.

“Um. Tony and Pepper knew. And Happy. My aunt. And a close friend of mine. That’s it.”

“Your aunt is raising you?”

“She tries.”

“And she has no… objections?” Rhodey prodded.

Steve saw Peter’s shoulders tense up. “I knew you were only putting the whole ‘you’re too young’ speech off until later,” the kid grumbled.

Steve shook his head. “We’re not giving you a speech. We just want you to know that…. It’s okay to play the big leagues and at the same time still accept that you’re young. So, if you ever feel out of your depth, or you need advice, We’re here.”

Peter looked up at them, searching both their faces for a moment, before finally relaxing his shoulders again. “Thanks,” he murmured. “If I had known you guys would be so nice, I wouldn’t have hidden my identity this whole time.”

-

‘TOP TEN REASONS WHY SPIDERMAN IS THE BEST SUPERHERO AROUND’

Natasha smirked as she tapped the link Clint had sent her. She scrolled to the bottom to look for the author’s name. What do you know? An article written by the big guy Jonah J. Jameson himself. Such an honor.

Natasha had a feeling that the Daily Bugle would only publish positive messages about Spider-Man from now on. And if they didn’t… well, Natasha still had their address.


End file.
